Anti-Clergy (How is that for a title? Wait, it gets better...)

I can remember sitting at the McDonalds at the Bone Student Center at Illinois State University. It was the summer before my freshman year, and I was there for summer registration. During a break we stopped for lunch and the conversation unfolded as my mother questioned as to why I was going to major in History and not History Education. It was suggested that I add the Education endorsement, "because the ministry may not work out."

For the two years prior, I had pursued the ministry for my future. It was my focus, my desire, my passion as I had visioned it. But while I had to reach an obstacle (and I don't consider this an obstacle), from that conversation forward the ministry became less a divine calling as events and conversations revealed that ministry was not as glorified in the minds of others. I met pastors who felt that I should not go into ministry because I was too young. I heard the criticism of the church and clergy by those in my dorm. I heard a campus minister talk about retiring as soon as possible. I heard of scandalous pastors and their zipper problems, money problems, control problems, and struggles with their uncertainty of their sexuality that left churches upset. I heard the stories of clergy from other denominations who had "issues" with children well before the media outcry earlier this decade and the abuse that ensued in other traditions. I served as a youth minister in two different churches with pastors who would not accept responsibility for their own actions.

I can remember lonely rides down the puke filled elevators at Watterson Towers on Sunday mornings and wondering what people were going to think of me as a pastor and whether I should even pursue ministry. As time unfolded, the perceptions of others and anti-clergy feelings became my perceptions and feelings as well. Until I reached a point of breaking down and I found myself kneeling at a cross at East Bay Camp seeking answers and direction as I was only a few months away from graduating from ISU and preparing for seminary.

I was reminded of those anti-clergy feelings again recently as I sat and listened to another clergy who spoke ill of me several years ago go on his verbal tirade about how if one pastor was speaking poorly of another pastor then there was reason to press charges (not legal, but in our church law). I wanted to stand up and confront. I wanted to unleash my own verbal tirade and start a discussion on hypocrisy. I left the meeting and stewed for several days, made comments on my Facebook about biting my tongue. And my anger brought me back into that place of feeling anti-clergy. "What is wrong with you people," I kept asking.

But as the weekend came, I looked in the mirror. I always thought that being ordained never meant being "set apart" as I was told several years ago, but my understanding was to be "set within." To walk alongside, to be one of the people in my congregation and not some glorified punk on a pedestal. Just as I am one of the people, I will get angry and jealous, and be hypocritical. While I pointed my fingers, so there were others pointed at me for my mistakes. If I were to consider such humility in 1997 to kneel at a cross seeking direction, then perhaps 12 1/2 years later, I need to return to that place as well. To be reminded that we all kneel at the cross and ask not only for our sin to be taken from us ... but to also place some of that emotion upon the cross asking God to release me from these feelings that hold me. My confrontation, or desire for revenge, takes God's providence away from God ... is that what I want?

I am glad I am here today ... proud to be in my 13th year of ministry and living among the people of Faith UMC.

Hands

A friend of mine recently had pictures taken with family and there was a whole segment of pictures were taken in black and white of just the hands. Some of the hands had written messages on them, some were formed into images to reveal another message. But I was taken by how each hand told another story. Though the pictures were in black and white the signs of age, work, relationship, pain, joy, past and future were all evident.

When I was a kid, I can remember how my mom used to rub my dad's hands in the evenings after a long work day. I remember on a few occasions when mom was at work and I was in the other room doing homework, my dad would call to me in the other room and ask me to come rub his hands. They were fairly course from his hard labor, his wedding ring was on his finger and it was not coming off given the size of his labored fingers. I can't imagine how many times my dad shook hands with others or his hands were full with grocery product stocking shelves or how his hands were graciously offering peace and a free product to an unhappy customer.

As I sat down to dinner this week, my six year old was observing my scars from my wrist surgery and my 8th grade window incident and asked if they still hurt. I quickly said "no" and went back to my conversation with my friend. Soon after, I felt his little hand pressing into my scars, feeling the texture of my skin and the scars. Then he asked me to tell him about the scar from 8th grade, a story he apparently had not heard. Once again, I disregarded his concern for the sake of being in conversation with my friend. Yet I wonder ... were my hands too busy and full to tell a story from my past.

Yet as the fall is approaching, I can without a doubt tell you that my hands are full and yet I find myself grasping for more suggesting I can accept more responsibility at work or in volunteer organizations or in my pursuing my doctorate ... yet without room to cling to love for family and friends or to be able to witness on behalf of my faith and how my past impacted my faith that night. My hands are not "labored" in love ... but seem busy right now grasping for things within my own agenda of personal achievement.

And yet it is in these times I find myself looking to Mary in response to God asking her to bring God in the world. The Theotokos (God-bearer) in innocence proclaimed, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord, let it be with me according to your word," (Luke 1:38). Most of us would be feeling like we have to carry the weight of the world or we would be consumed by the perceptions of others of being a pregnant thirteen year old in a religious community. But with empty hands, she says ... here am I ... let it be with me. God, you fill me ... you guide me ... you direct me .... may I follow your will. Is there room in our busy hands to receive God's agenda for us?

Journey into the Heart and Soul

This is the first part of a two week sermon series on David and his quest as a "man after God's own heart."

It was my first year of seminary as I was making my way home late one Thursday night, making that familiar trek from Evanston, Illinois, to Walnut Grove, Illinois. Every week from September through May, I would leave Walnut Grove on Tuesday morning at 4:00AM in order to arrive in Evanston on time for my 9:00AM class, then Thursday night at 9:00PM after my last class, I would turn around and head back. The ride was long, but with a combination of music, talk radio, and my father’s radar detector the four hours would go quickly. Too bad, I didn’t have a cell phone in the 90’s to keep my attention.

Anyway, it was about midnight as I was making my way down I-74 between Moline and Galesburg. As I was passing a rest area I looked in my rearview mirror to see flashing lights speeding up behind me. Without any other cars in front of me or behind me and the speedometer registering over 80MPH (ummm yeah), I knew he was after me … so much for the radar detector, Dad! I pulled over. The state police officer pulled over behind me. My stomach turned as even though I was only 22, my 6 year ticket free record was on the line.

As the officer approached the car he shined his light into my back window, as I assume he was looking for anything suspicious. Yet, the strangest thing happened when he spoke.
“Sir, he said, I know you are very busy and important person and I am sorry for pulling you over. But let me do a quick license check and you will be on your way. I hate to keep you from your important business, sir.”

I sat there stunned. He had to be twice my age, yet he called me sir. I drove a little two door Pontiac Sunfire. And he said I was important. It’s midnight, how can I be so busy? I don’t look like a celebrity.

As he came back to the car, he says, “here you go pastor, everything checked out ok.” How did he know that? Oh yeah, I had this little decal in the back window with a cross and flame on it and it read: pastor. No ticket, no warning, just how privileged am I?

Contrast that with a story that was on CNN this week. Pastor Jose Moran was arrested this week in Texas after he tried to interfere with a routine traffic stop taking place in his church’s parking lot. According to one account, Pastor Moran was trying to intercede on behalf of the driver but took his authority as a pastor to a new level. After shoving an officer, the police used a taser on the pastor and then arrested him. Just how privileged was he?

While we can draw our own conclusions that include a discussion of geography, ethnicity, circumstance or even separate these as non-related experiences, it still begs the question as to whether our titles or positions carry weight, give leverage, or provide a level respect even when the respect has not been earned.

Pastor and author Bill Hybels suggests that one of his main concerns with the future of the

church, are the newer, younger pastors. He is concerned that a few may be going into ministry for the wrong reasons. Sure they may say they are called to serve, but that there is a hierarchal mentality, that seems to be associated with being a pastor. Having to be “known” for what they do, instead of serving just to be serving. A colleague of mine had a difficult adjustment to ministry in the local church as he left a position of leadership at the conference level for the local church and could not understand why people did not respect him for his position. He left the ministry, not surviving the transition.

Perhaps you see this applying to your profession or in any of your social circles, not just with clergy, that we expect to be respected for what we are as opposed to who we are. We all struggle with the need to be important, and humility is not easily come by. But today’s message is not necessarily about humility, but more so a message of entitlement … a struggle that living in today’s world is heightened by reasons that are hard to pinpoint. This is not just a struggle in youth ministry or in the younger generations emerging in the workforce, but on a societal level, in the church, in the school. Yet God’s way of handling that is to turn our kingdom upset side down time and time again. God takes our thoughts, perceptions, entitlements, values in this world and he turns them upside down and puts them right back onto us and forces us to deal with them.

The people in Israel wanted a king. This idea of an invisible God was not enough for them and like the countries that surrounded them they wanted a human king to govern them. This story in 1 Samuel tells how Saul is selected to serve as Israel’s first king. What we come to understand about those selected as king in that era, is that they are portrayed as vicars of God, representatives of God, that was how the kings were viewed in the other countries … representatives of their gods. But there are two things that stand out in this story about Saul being chosen is that Saul comes to Samuel, seeking out Samuel for something. The other piece about Saul’s selection is that he was chosen because of his stature. I Samuel 9 tells us that Saul came from a wealthy family and was a man in the prime of his life, handsome and one who stood head and shoulders above everyone else. Saul’s name in Hebrew means asked … he is the asked one.

Now contrast that with the emergence of David. Flipping ahead six chapters, we hear that Saul is out of favor with God. Saul no longer makes alters for God, but he makes up alters for himself and rather than make sacrifices to God, the best of the captured flocks were kept for him and his people … he is entitled as King, right? God says in 1 Samuel 15, “I regret that I made Saul king, for he has not carried out my commands.”

Samuel is sent for a new king. We turn to I Samuel 16:1-13. Samuel is grieving Saul’s fall and God’s regret. I Samuel 16, I invite you to follow along on the screen.

1 The LORD said to Samuel, "How long will you mourn for Saul, since I have rejected him as king over Israel? Fill your horn with oil and be on your way; I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem. I have chosen one of his sons to be king." 2 But Samuel said, "How can I go? If Saul hears about it, he will kill me." The LORD said, "Take a heifer with you and say, 'I have come to sacrifice to the LORD.' 3 Invite Jesse to the sacrifice, and I will show you what to do. You are to anoint for me the one I indicate." 4 Samuel did what the LORD said. When he arrived at Bethlehem, the elders of the town trembled when they met him. They asked, "Do you come in peace?" 5 Samuel replied, "Yes, in peace; I have come to sacrifice to the LORD. Consecrate yourselves and come to the sacrifice with me." Then he consecrated Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice. 6 When they arrived, Samuel saw Eliab and thought, "Surely the LORD's anointed stands here before the LORD." 7 But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things human beings look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart." 8 Then Jesse called Abinadab and had him pass in front of Samuel. But Samuel said, "The LORD has not chosen this one either." 9 Jesse then had Shammah pass by, but Samuel said, "Nor has the LORD chosen this one." 10 Jesse had seven of his sons pass before Samuel, but Samuel said to him, "The LORD has not chosen these." 11 So he asked Jesse, "Are these all the sons you have?" "There is still the youngest," Jesse answered. "He is tending the sheep." Samuel said, "Send for him; we will not sit down until he arrives." 12 So he sent and had him brought in. He was glowing with health and had a fine appearance and handsome features. Then the LORD said, "Rise and anoint him; this is the one." 13 So Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him in the presence of his brothers, and from that day on the Spirit of the LORD came on David in power. Samuel then went to Ramah.

David’s name in Hebrew means, the beloved. This time Samuel is sent to the house of Jesse to seek out the next king. He goes to Jesse’s family in Bethlehem with the voice of God ringing in his ears: “I will show you what you shall do; and you shall anoint for me the one whom I name to you” (v. 3). This is exactly the kind of thing we’re always wanting to hear from God, isn’t it? “God, just show me your will and I’ll do it!” For most of us that’s a plea and a longing, but for Samuel it was standard operating procedure. Throughout his life, he regularly heard from God and knew exactly what the people needed to do to follow God. So when it came time to view Jesse’s sons and anoint God’s next king, you’d think Samuel would be the guy who could pick God’s man out of the royal lineup. He’d be the expert whose spiritual intuition you would trust.

When Jesse’s seven sons walk into the room, Samuel spots his man. Eliab was tall. He was good looking. He was the oldest son in the family, and accordingly, would have held an elevated leadership role in their culture. In other words, this guy was CEO-grade king material. But God has something different in mind. It will not be by appearance or height or status … but only in terms of matters of the heart shall the king be selected.

Interesting here because while the first born carried a certain status in that culture, God’s story continually takes our expectations or entitlements, flips them around and shoves them right back at us. Consider other Old Testament stories, the theme of the younger brother or son surpassing his siblings in distinction and divine favor is widespread throughout world literature and the Hebrew Bible. Abel’s offering was acceptable to the Lord, while that of his older brother, Cain, was not (Genesis 4:1-7). Abraham’s firstborn son, Ishmael, was passed over as the vehicle for the transmission of the divine blessing in favor of Isaac, Abraham’s second son (Genesis 17:18-19). Jacob swindled his older brother, Esau, out of their father’s blessings (Genesis 27:18-29).

So these brothers pass by. Another key thing I want to point out is the meaning of their names. First Eliab passes by his name means God is father, he is not chosen. Then comes Abinidab, his name means God is generous, he is not chosen. Then comes Shammah, his name means fame … but he is not chosen. After all brothers parade before Samuel, God’s point was made. The king was still not in the room. Everyone who really mattered was in attendance, except the one who mattered most to God. He had chosen David. The shepherd boy. The one whose first impression on people apparently kept him out of his father’s lineup of potential royalty. For his name means beloved. He was the last born. The one out tending sheep. The one who is out at work. The shortest, the youngest … and God says that is who will serve as king. He didn’t seek out the prophet, wasn’t even an option in the eyes of his own family. But there was something that God saw.

This is totally counterintuitive. God is demonstrating that God’s chosenness … God’s decision trumps the impressions of convention. It was essence over appearance. Character over charisma. Potential for service over potential for power. God’s giftedness over our feelings of entitlement. For you did not call me. I called you. The least of these who shall lead them … who shall lead us.

The story read earlier in this service is the story of the prodigal son, perhaps you know that story. But hear the plea of the older son in that story who comes back from the field and hears the party going on. “But father …I have never failed you. I am the older son. I am the hard worker. I am the faithful one. He is angry, refuses to go into the party. For all these years I have done all this for you, but you have never thrown me a party, killed an animal in my honor or given me the finest robe. I am entitled to this and even more. But this son who considered you dead, this son who devoured us gets all of this.”

There is a privilege here, father that I am entitled to. Who’s heart in the story of the prodigal son was on a quest for God’s heart? The younger son or the older? Indeed there is a privilege that we are asked to live up to, but that privilege is not found in what country we live in or what church we go to, or how much we make our what we look like, or our position. The privilege is found in being sought out by God, chosen by God, forgiven by God, and loved by God.

Later on, David will fail to live up that privilege … David will struggle with entitlement, but we have to understand that David also would be considered the one who was after God’s own heart … and as a people have credited many Psalms and acts of worship to him, he continued to pay for and yet repent for the mistake he would make with Bathsheba. David’s quest for God’s own heart began with God telling Samuel to look at the heart … not the wealth, not the stature, not the position, not the birth order, not even at one’s accomplishments. And David’s quest for God’s heart would continue on in the way David would bring people together around God’s promise.
David’s quest is our quest. Scripture will keep reminding us of the upside down kingdom that belongs to the mourners, the meek and the persecuted. That kingdom where the unlikely are awakened to God’s spirit while religious leaders are more concerned about their privilege as opposed to the outcasts.

For this is where our journey begins … ASP team and Faith UMC … in that God chose us first.
In Jesus Name, Amen.

"I am not a role model"

Anybody remember Charles Barkley making that statement on a Nike commercial in the early 90's? Well, if you need to jog your memory: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8vh2MwXZ6o. Charles was/is an interesting character who could shoot off his mouth at any moment without any apology. Basketball skills aside, he was in the eyes of many children through his career. A member of the 1992 Olympic basketball "Dream Team," I remember being a big fan of his as I grew up in the 1990's because he based his game on rebounding and defense. I wanted to emulate that. And even watching this commercial for the first time as a teen, I remember thinking how profound he was.

Now years later as a parent, maybe he is not as profound as I once thought. My older son has a new fondness for the Cubs rightfielder Milton Bradley. Indeed it is hard to be a fan of a guy hitting just above .200 and who can't count to three in order to keep track of the number of outs. However, Andrew is a fan because Milton Bradley likes to argue with the umpire. In fact, this came to be evident in his eyes three weeks ago when I had to have a friendly "discussion" with the umpire in our little league game. Oddly enough it was on the last play of the game and our discussion brought us a victory. As the game ended, I hear my son proclaim, "my dad is the best coach because he argues with the ump." Is that a normal boy or a strong-willed young man who likes to fight authority. Can that be asked of the Charles Barkleys and Milton Bradleys of this world?

I do want to point out that Charles Barkley and the other athletes are role models for our children in that they make a lot of money off the jersey and shoe sales and those typically are not adults sporting those, but children. Charles, as long as you draw a paycheck from Nike, you are a role model. Indeed as parents and people who are in our childrens' eyes we are thrust into positions as role models whether we choose to accept that or not. But I guess what I want to suggest also is that being a role model is not just about a life of perfection.

When I was a youth minister in Clinton, a good friend used to jokingly tell his kids when I was being immature to not listen to Brad because "he is not a good role model." Well years later I still correspond with him and his adult children because the role model aspect goes beyond the moment of an event but into how a life is lived. I want my son to also see how I had a long and kind conversation with th umpire. I want my children to see when a fallen athlete asks for forgiveness and turns his life around.

I mean really, how often do we withhold judgement in order to give someone the opportunity to do the right thing? That is one of the beautiful things about Jesus in his preaching on forgiveness is that he taught us about offering us and offering others, the opportunity to make the right choice. It is in those moments of redemption that not only do we experience true life, but we are role modeling for our kids that through adversity and failure there is hope.

If we expect a role model to be perfect and our children ,thereafter, to be perfect, then what will happen the first time our kid's fail to meet our expectations?

Disappointment, Prayer, and Grace

Recently in one of the classes I was teaching, we got on the topic of transformation and prayer. And we mulled over in our discussion as to what the point of prayer was: "do we pray to change God or do we pray to change ourselves?" What an interesting point. In many ways, the struggle for humanity is the battle between our will and God's will. When faced with the greatest challenge of his life, Jesus stood in the Garden of Gethsemane and prayed for God to "let this cup pass." Yet ultimately he resolves, "let they will be done." Yet I question, did that leave Jesus disappointed?

We set goals, have desires of pure intentions, strive for things in life and yet when we come face to face with an alternative plan for our lives, are we disappointed? Even if we learn that it is God's plan for us and we are called to trust and walk in faith, does that leave us disappointed? Indeed sometimes our plans are not God's plans, yet there are other times when we believe we have followed God's plan for our lives and we struggle accepting whether a new direction is of God.

Perhaps my questions appear confusing (isn't that the point of a blog?) but I am struggling with that sense and those notions of disappointment. In trying to discern whether God's plan is set before me or if my way is taking precedence. Perhaps for you in a job transition, or if your heart was broken by someone else, or still grieving a loss that has left you wondering what's ahead. Are we being led by our own desire despite being steered in a different direction by events around us? Have we asked God what God wants? Or maybe God wants what we want?

So we all keep walking, praying, discerning, and hoping ...... hoping that there will be grace in the end that illuminates the mistakes and guides in the days ahead, climbing adversity or accepting what is given to us.